


Better

by Stealth_Noodle



Category: Final Fantasy I
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comment Fic, Final Fantasy Kiss Battle, M/M, Mid-Canon, NES Canon, Porn, Wordcount: 100-1.000, magic kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stealth_Noodle/pseuds/Stealth_Noodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Kissing it better" taken a few steps farther.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better

**Author's Note:**

> Cheerfully reused Light Warriors for this, so it's essentially a porny epilogue to [Carpe Magum](http://archiveofourown.org/works/656830).

Xue's scrubbing dead monster bits off his hammer when Imri ducks inside the tent and says, "May I request your services?"

Face warming, Xue clears this throat. "Maybe this should wait until after supper."

"That was an actual request for medical treatment."

"Oh. Right."

Imri chuckles, then winces and sets his hand low on his hip. "One of those wyverns kicked me harder than I realized. I'm pretty much tapped for the day, so..."

He's still healing slowly; burns are tricky even with magic. As he unlaces his trousers, Xue sets his hammer aside. It's been an uneventful hike back to Lefein, nothing that should have taxed Imri's magical abilities unless he's in worse shape than he's letting on.

Imri pulls his trousers down far enough to reveal a bruise the size of an ogre's fist at the junction of his hip and thigh; he's lucky not to be dealing with a broken pelvis or a more serious case of internal bleeding. Xue gathers a healing spell in his hand, then, after a moment's second-guessing, sucks the magic into his mouth. Imri hisses long and low as Xue's lips press against the middle of the bruise.

The discoloration fades from the center out, leaving an uneven ring of purple. Xue cleans it up with languid passes of his tongue. Between his increasingly ragged breaths, Imri laughs and says, "Tease."

Xue makes one last, thorough circle with his tongue before replying, "Why do you think I'm teasing?"

"Because supper's going to be ready any—nnng."

He's already hard when Xue eases his cock free of his trousers. Xue licks the underside from base to tip, leaving a shining white trail of magic, before wrapping his lips around the head. They've had precious little time to learn each other's body, but Xue has always been a quick study, and Imri has never been shy about his preferences.

"Never mind supper," Imri decides, panting.

Xue presses forward, taking more in, breathing in the concentrated blend of sweat and leather. His tongue tingles with the fading magic; he can only imagine how it feels on more sensitive flesh. As he settles into a rhythm, Imri's fingers twine through his hair.

"I should have said something so much earlier," Imri babbles. "Should have just pounced on you after the sea shrine. Should have—"

Xue caresses the inside of his thigh with another healing spell, and none of the subsequent syllables quite form words. Imri's gorgeous like this, muscles trembling under his skin, nonsense riding out on his uneven breaths. Xue stiffens his tongue, hollows his cheeks, and draws him slowly over the edge.

As Imri comes down, knees near buckling, Xue wipes his mouth and asks, "Feel better?"

"Thoroughly." Imri kneels to cup his face and press a quick, fierce kiss to his lips. "Have I told you lately how the next time we sleep on a mattress, I want you to pound me into it?"

His hand is working its way under Xue's robe, warm with enough magic to call his earlier claim into question. Xue leans into the touch. "You might have mentioned."

"Supper's ready," Luna announces, her voice alarmingly close. Xue turns to find her peering into the tent as she adds, "Caz cooked, so remember to pretend you like it."

Imri only nods, withdrawing his hand, while Xue quietly wishes for the earth to crack open and swallow them all. At the very least, the tent pole could fall over and knock a little amnesia into their heads. "How long have you been watching?" he forces himself to ask.

"Since supper was ready," she replies blithely, and lets the tent flap fall.


End file.
